Of Dragons, Dwobbits and Dwarves

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Regardless, the fact the guild was well represented didn't mean he was willing to sacrifice one of their own to the orcs. The young woman, who was probably his age if he had to guess, resisted, stubbornly staying in place, and he bit back a growl of frustration. Leaning in, he pointed past her face at the advancing orcs. "Are you really going to sit here and let the bastards that killed your drake kill you without putting up a fight? Your drake really meant that little to you?"

At that her head snapped up, eyes blazing fire at him. Fili grinned. "Much better." He grabbed the hilt of the sword strapped to her back and pulled it from its sheath to shove into her hands. "Get up."

She struggled shakily to her feet, and he grabbed her arm to help steady her. As she gained her footing she glanced at him to thank him, and then did a double take. "Your Highness?"

"Last I checked," Fili said with a grin, even as he internally grimaced. He was used to the lower classes, particularly the female members, making a fuss whenever he happened through, a scene they did not currently have time to play out. Sardin was still keeping the orcs back but there were far too many, spread far too wide for him to cover them all.

Her eyes narrowed. "So, are you actually going to be able to fight or am I going to have to protect both of us?"

Fili's jaw clenched, but he resisted the urge to snap back. She was in pain, it edged her words and practically bled from her expression. People in pain, he'd found, could often behave like wounded animals, lashing out at anyone who came near. He didn't know why. He'd done it himself in the past and couldn't have explained why if asked. Maybe it was a way to let some of the pain out. Maybe, by dropping it on someone else, it was a way to feel less alone in it.

He didn't know, but the last thing he was going to do was hold her responsible for words spoken minutes after her drake had been killed. Instead, hoping to distract her even if only a little, he stepped forward, ducking under Sardin's jaw. He came up on the other side, just in time to ram his sword through the chest of an oncoming orc. He twisted, using his body to pull the sword free, then continued the momentum into a full swing, easily beheading the next orc. He took out four more in quick succession before ducking back again to allow Sardin to send out another bout of fire.

Around them, other dragons were landing, ringing the base of the mountain and doing their best to drive the orcs back. Even with as many as they'd brought they had no chance to take on the entire horde which was why they weren't going to try. Instead they planned to block off the mountain, giving the wizards, and Galadriel, a chance to defeat Gothmog and retrieve the ring. Pulling in as close as possible would also prevent the trebuchets from being put in use, as it would be rather ineffective to fling rocks at them when the orcs would be hitting their own people at the same time.

Actually, on second thought, he almost hoped the idiots would use the things.

The young woman stepped up beside him, almost trancelike, absently swinging her sword in one hand as Sardin finished sweeping the area in front of him, flames meeting with the fire of other dragons ranged in front and to the sides.

"So," Fili said, unable to help himself. "Still think it's all just for publicity?"

She shrugged numbly. "Orcs are idiots. My little brothers killed more than that protecting our caravans on trade runs." Her voice sounded exhausted, and dull, but there was the tiniest spark of amusement in there, buried deep. She was trying.

"All right then," he said. "I guess I'll just have to make you eat your words." He frowned, eyes narrowing slightly as a thought occurred to him. "You don't think the stories about Orcrist are put out by the throne too, do you?"